


Little leather book

by TheRaptorOFire



Series: Amelia/Cullen [23]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst, Ex-Templar Inquisitor, F/M, Headcanon, Memory Loss, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaptorOFire/pseuds/TheRaptorOFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phase. It was a Phase she told herself. She'd grow out of it, nothing to worry about. But as the months go on and days seem to elude her even more, Amelia must come to the realization that it isn't just a phase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Time passed by so quickly for her, but that was normal right? For someone to sometimes lose track of what day it was? Happened a lot in Skyhold, especially after Haven. So much happened in such a short span of time, at least it felt short, Amelia was only in Haven for 2 months right? 

“Inquisitor.”

Amelia looked over the Battlements, she’d been staring- watching Cullen train the troops. She always did like watching Cullen; especially when he started training with just breeches on.

“Inquisitor?”

It wasn’t too hot, so that was good. She never did like the heat, or the cold for that matter, but the cold air of Ferelden was better than the scorching heat of the western part of Orlais –

“Amelia?”

She turned too quickly, making herself slight dizzy. Cullen helped her, chuckling slightly as she wobbled in place. “Commander when did you, ah, when did you get here?” The question was genuine, she’d literally just been watching him, how did Cullen get to where she was –“

“I’ve been here the entire time, Love. We were talking about flowers. You were very adamant about needing to add more Sunflowers to the Skyhold garden.” He said with a slight laugh in the back of his throat, leaning back over the battlements. He watched her out the corner of his eye.

Cullen was not wearing his armor, he was… wearing something soft, soft leather breeches and a cotton shirt with ties near his neck that were loose, showing off his collar bone slightly and neck. She checked, he was wearing his boots so maybe he’d been training them and came here after?

Amelia looked at him, confused before turning back to the battlements. Yes, yes they _were_ talking about flowers. Cullen had taken the day off to spend some quality time with her. That’s right. Why did Amelia think he was training troops? It doesn’t matter.

“Right.” Amelia laughed, “Of course, I was just daydreaming I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Cullen said incredulously. Putting a gentle hand on her back, rubbing circles. “Amelia, is something wrong? You don’t normally get lost in thought.” The tender tone he gave made her feel oddly guilty.

“Yeah I’m fine, long day I guess.” She feigned a yawn, rubbing her eyes which would just end up hurting her later on.

“I have a question though, when was Haven?”

Cullen looked at her curiously; what an odd question to be asking. “About 2 years ago, Amelia. Why?”

Cullen always looked worried to some degree, but the face he just gave her; _it_ was worrying. Filled with genuine unease.

“Oh nothing. Just remembering a bad dream I had and I couldn’t quite remember when it happened. Nothing big.”

Of course Cullen didn’t believe her. She had been acting odd for a good month now, the Inquisitor was always odd, but not to this degree. She seemed lost to her thoughts, and the way she looked when she seemingly was, seemed… empty, like she couldn’t _remember_ she had even been daydreaming.

“It is very late…” He said it slow, drawn out, still not quite convince Amelia was fine. But she was stubborn so there was no point arguing with her. “Perhaps bed is the right idea. Shall we sleep in your quarters tonight? Or mine?”

It had become a little tradition to switch between the two bedrooms, an idea Amelia had come up with so neither had to give up their bed completely. They had been doing this little routine not long after they shared their first kiss, and way before they ever ‘shared’ the bed.

“My room tonight. I think the… size of the room would be most excellent for what I would love to do.”

Cullen shook his head, the heat in her eyes already shooting a familiar burn to his groin. “After you, my lady.”

 

* * *

 

Amelia had been awake for some time now, just listening to the quiet rumble of Cullen’s breath; and his subtle sleep talk. Could listen to his sleep talk all night truth be told; when it was sweet or, very interesting things he would never have the guts to say or do while awake. He had an arm wrapped around her waist, hand almost too close to a spot on her body that would make her sigh. She stared up to the top of the elaborate bed, eyes roaming the remnants of wood where Cullen had stuck a very large, and a very _ugly_ mirror before she ordered him to remove it.

Chuckling, she shook her head. That dumb mirror, why did her parents send it; why did she give him permission to be a snarky ass to do whatever he wanted with it… Why could she remember the mirror incident but not Haven…?

 

_”If you forget something, write it down in this little book. It’s for your eyes only, okay Lady Herald?” The healer handed her the book. It was smaller than the other books in Skyhold, like it was meant to be hidden._

_“Is this necessary? I am perfectly capable of remembering.” Amelia refused to take it. The idea was ridiculous. She did not forget things; that was absurd._

_Are you? You forgot my name, Lady Herald. Just please, keep this and jot down the day._

_Fine, fine. She took the book, yanking out of the healers’ hand. She would never have to write in the book, she knew that._

 

Carefully she moved Cullen’s arm, sliding off the bed. Amelia put on a simple robe to cover her naked form before sitting at the desk near the bookcase. Before reaching up she turned to look at Cullen, brows creasing in worry.

Amelia reached up, grabbing a worn looking leather back book. As she undid the tie, sitting down at the desk she pulled out a feather pen, turning to a blank page. As she dipped the pen she bit down on her tongue, trying desperately to remember, no; she was trying to not believe it was happening.

“Today, Tuesday, 9:43 Dragon. Haven was 2 years ago, _not_ 2 months ago. My title is _Inquisitor_ Trevelyan.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Maker’s breath.” Amelia rummaged through the library, it had to be here. This is where they kept all the stupid tomes of Andraste, and surely they’d have at least one book on the Chantry and Templars.  And they did, and she needed it. Now. And why in Andraste did she place it so high on the bookshelf?

“And what do I owe the pleasure?” Dorian said smugly, smiling in amusement as Amelia shrieked and jumped like being struck by lightning.

“Maker bite my butt, Dorian don’t do that!”

As Amelia fixed her hair and turned her head, hiding the slight embarrassed blush that spread across her face. It was quite the oddity to see her here, in the Library. The only times the Herald made her way here was to converse with Sister Nightingale. She read sure, but she had her own personal library in her quarters. Yes it was filled with cheesy romances Cassandra suggested, not to mention a few not for public eye novels. So if she wanted a book on ‘history’ she needed to come here.

“Cullen is rubbing off on you in more ways than one. You both are such scaredy cats.” The smirk on his face had Amelia huffing, it was the emphasis of the words ‘rubbing off’ that had her blushing even more.

“Dorian I told you to keep stuff like that quiet.” She muttered, turning back to the book case.

“You and the Commander don’t keep quiet. I’m sure all of Skyhold heard you both last night. If I can recall he hit that spot several times –“

“Dorian!” If she shrieked any louder she’d wake the dead.

The mage held his hands up defensively, smiling, not at all contrite in the least. “Alright, Alright. So why are you here? Do you need help acquiring that book that you are trying to reach but oh so can’t?”

Amelia glared at him, eyes squinted as she sighed, turning to her side to lean on the shelf. “I’ve got this Dorian, now please…”

“Which one dear ‘o dear?” He stepped closer, fingers brushing over each book. Amelia shook her head at each one. She knew it was none of these –

“Are you looking for the one we hid? “ It was like the air shifted, changed direction; whatever the expression was. There was tension between them now that felt as thick as the fog in the Fallow Mire.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He reaches up, pulling the book hidden behind the other books. It was old, not as old as the little book hidden in a secret compartment in her desk. But old enough that the cover began to wear away. And she _hid it_ , only he and Amelia knowing of its presence on this shelf.

Amelia took the book, holding it tight to her chest. “Thank you in any case.” Such a quiet voice was rare from her, and in those moments Amelia looked younger, innocent.

“You have to tell him, Amelia. As your friend –“

She shook her head. “It’s a phase, don’t worry. I just wanted to know a bit more about Lyrium, and the effect…”

It seemed everyone she talked to was unconvinced by her words, as calm and reassuring as she attempted them to be. “Sure, and I am not the most charming mage here.” Amelia chuckled at that.

“Trust me, Dorian.”

He only shook his head. “Alright but you come to me should things get worse. Or Varric, I’m sure he has all your adventures written down somewhere.”

Amelia leaned onto the balls of her feet, brushing a very light peck on the cheek. “I will Dorian, again, trust me. It will all be good I promise.”

Dorian watched as Amelia walked down the stairs, his hand coming up to touch the spot Amelia had… kissed. Kissed? That was worrying, it was worse than he thought. But he trusted his friend, perhaps _he_ was the crazy one.

 

* * *

 

“Your move, Amelia.”

“You and your smug, chess ass _are_ going to be beat, Cullen.”

Something familiar, something fun. Not having to be stuck in a room full of bloody Orlesians or stuffy old rooms hidden in the corners of Skyhold was nice. Surrounded by flowers and little butterflies even up here in the mountains was always nice.

What wasn’t nice was how Amelia always lost to Cullen.

Sure he let her win a few times, then that one time she really did win after Mia visited. But she was utterly hopeless at the game. She treated it like a real battle on the field.

Cullen pushed his chair back slightly, legs spread and hands resting on the back of his head. Amelia would have scoffed at this display of dominance if she didn’t believe he _partly_ earned it.

“Then please, by all means, beat my ‘chess ass’.”

Amelia was not amused. Well that was wrong, she was a little amused. It was remarkable watching him not even go easy on her anymore. Her fault for agreeing to the practice sessions but being distracted by, well, him.

She moved a pawn, was sure it was a good move till Cullen knocked it over.

“Can you at least let me win once?” Her voice screamed irritation, but her smile showed the enjoyment she had either way.

“Then it would not be fair, now would it? Is that not why you asked me _not_ to let you win?”

She sighed, bowing her head in defeat. As her hands slammed onto the table she muttered something about giving up and how trying to beat Cullen was pointless as trying to get an Orlesian to pet a Mabari.

Cullen got up, rounded the table to stand over the sulking woman to pull her up. He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his nose into the crook her neck. His little personal spot he always thought to himself. “It’s alright, love. You’re good at _other_ things.” Amelia rolled her eyes, but leaned into the warmth that radiated from him even under all that metal and leather between them both.

Today she decided to train in her full armor set, with the matching light cerulean scarf. Her favorite.  Being wrapped in his arms always made her feel weightless, even when she had pounds of armor weighting her down.

Some days she forgot what it was like to be held by someone else. She’d spent 4 years away from people, to be… love so deeply meant the world to her. But as darker thoughts clouded her mind it set back everything.

What if the healer was right? What if _Dorian_ was right? What if her years of Lyrium use and then quitting cold turkey was finally catching up to her? Cullen wasn’t forgetting, why was _she_? She had nightmares because of it sure, she’d always had nightmares. When someone questioned what she dreamed about it was never ‘just a dream’. But this? _Could_ 6 years of discontinued Lyrium use really have such an adverb affect on someone? Cullen deserved to know did he not?

Cullen sensed her worry, not sure of what, but he knew something was up. The way she tensed up was more than evident that something was amiss.

With tender hands, he lifted her head, forcing her to look at him. Amelia blinked. What was he doing? She didn’t need this special attention…  

“Amelia? Are you alright?” There was such love and tender and genuine worry in those golden eyes, but why? She. Was. Fine.  –

She shook her head, more to get the thoughts out. “Of course I am. Just… thinking.” There was apprehension in her voice. It wasn’t completely a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

Cullen let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding back. Amelia always had that effect on him, always worried for her, especially after Adamant Fortress. It was like she became a whole different person after that, didn’t change completely but there was something he could not yet place.

Something was wrong.

“Amelia?”

“Who?” She shook her head. “What?” That was what she meant, _what_ , not _who_. She’s going insane that’s what it is. _Amelia you are nutz, this is just a phase… just… a phase._

If his brows creased anymore, they would become a unibrow. “Nothing.” He said as an aside, letting go of her reluctantly. “I have work, and I’m sure you have the same. Best get to it lest we _forget_.”

Did he… Does he… Naw he’s just being Commander again.

“Yes.” She agreed quietly, taking a step back from him. Amelia watched as Cullen turned his back, walked away through the door to the main hall. It hit her. Hit her harder than that time Bull rammed into her during a sparring match in the Exalted Plains. It was indeed not a phase.

She made her way to the main hall. Varric. Varric would know someone who could help, Varric knew everyone it seemed. As she passed through the large doors Amelia stopped at the fire place, Varric busy writing what no doubt must be the next book for Hard in Hightown.

“Varric?” She asked, rubbing the scar on her lip.

“Yeah Sunny?” He looked up, getting up off his seat when he saw her brows furrow with deep thought.

“I need your help.”


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia played with the book in her hands. The stupid, worn out book.

This entire thing was stupid. She should be with Cullen doing Maker knows what. Not sitting in some dankly,  _smelly_  healers’ tent. And this headache, if the maker truly existed he’d get rid of this headache.

“How many days have you filled in?” he asked.

This time Amelia was sure a week had pass. It had to be, there was no other way the man standing to her side was here in just a few hours. Varric. That deceptive dwarf. Had he really kept in contact with all his former friends?

“Well Bumble? Blondie can’t help if you don’t tell him.”

“This is ridiculous, Varric.” Amelia muttered, shaking her head to clear her thoughts as eyes never left the cover of the book.

“You really are starting to sound like Curly.” Varric was leaning against the support beam, kicking the dirt breath his boots.

“When I said I needed help I expected you just to make a book about my ‘adventures’. Not bring some apostate to Skyhold.”

“You wanted help,” Varric pushed himself off the post, taking the few steps to stand next to his friend. “and this is the best damn Spirit Healer this side of Thedas. If anyone could help it’s him.”

If Amelia was a mage, her glare alone would have killed the man. Anger was not an emotion the Inquisitor handled well, and this  _blasted_  headache that was pounding against the back of her eyes was not making things any better. She growled, or what would have been a growl.

“Amelia.” Varric said surprisingly calmly, and to say her name meant it was genuine. “I know you’re in pain but that’s no reason to act like lion who has a splinter in its paw.”

Anders stepped closer, holding his hand out gently to take the book. He wasn’t going to grab it while this woman was ready to turn into one of those Werewolves in the forests and maul him. The way Amelia was acting, Varric should have named her ‘Hornet’.

“Please, it’s just a quick look, I promise.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. She should be telling  _Cullen_  about this, not the man who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry and was wanted as a terrorist by everyone in Thedas. What was Varric even thinking? - Amelia mentally shook her head. No, he’s just trying to help, like Varric said he used to do. If Varric trusted him then she would as well.

_And he better live up to the damn praise._

Amelia took a breath, calming herself down. “Alright.” She handed him the book, but didn’t let go of her grip, not at first.

Stubborn; Anders thought.

As he flipped through the pages Amelia shuffled on the stool, fidgety, worried that should Cullen find Anders here he would 1: Kill Varric, 2: Throw the only means of possibly finding a way to stop the symptoms in that crappy excuse for a prison;  _even by prison standards_. And 3: be even more disappointed with her.

It was not the first time she hid her symptoms from him. And the last time almost ruined everything.

By sneaking around and jumping through hoops to make sure Cullen didn’t find out; she was digging herself deeper into a hole she’d soon not be able to escape from.

“You’ve filled out almost every page so far.” He sputtered out, more than just a little concerned. Anders was a little bothered this woman had downplayed her memory loss so severely. “But it seems to have been little things, up until a month ago, then it looks like it suddenly just exploded.”

Amelia huffed and rolled her eyes; again. Of course he’d use  _that_  word.

“What happened during that time?” He finished, removing his eyes from the pages and back to Amelia.

“I don’t… quite…” She worried at her bottom lip. There was something… she pinched the bridge of her nose – “A month ago… A month ago I... I…” It was on the tip of her tongue. There was something, something she couldn’t quite remember; an event that was really,  _really_  important. She  _knew_  it was important, had her on the verge of tears trying to remember.

Just a phase. Just a phase she was still telling herself –

“You got  _married_ , Bumble.”

It took her a moment, longer than it should have. The metaphorical lightbulb clicked on.  _Finally_. Amelia smacked her lips together when it came back to her. They got married once in Skyhold, to please Leliana and Josephine. Then a secret one for just her and Cullen, near his childhood spot by the lake.

“Right. Right.  _I knew that_.” She said, waving her hand. Her  _left_  hand, the gems stretching around the golden band reflecting the candle light. How had she not noticed it before?

Varric and Anders just turned to look at each other; they both knew the truth but telling her would mean sudden death for both.”

Amelia got up, needing to stretch, back ached badly from the stiff stool.

“Well, I’ll need to learn more about this, about you. Everyone has different reactions to the withdrawals. I also need to stay somewhere close, where no one will be able to find me here, like your Quarters if that’s reasonable.”

“Not probably.” Amelia chuckled, Varric along with her. Anders only stood silent. “You do know who the Commander is,  _My husband_?”

“Cullen  _stick up the ass_  Rutherford. I wanted to make sure you remembered.”

“Not funny,  _Blondie_.” Her attempt at humor at least was a start.

“Oh ouch you wounded me,  _Bumble_.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at him with a smile, grabbing the book just before heading out the tent. A smile. That’s more progress during the hour they’d been here at least. She turned; “There’s a secret room here in Skyhold you can hide in. You just have to make a left when you hit the vintage wine cellar.”

Anders nods in acknowledgement before Amelia disappears behind the tent flaps.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She expected Cullen to be in her quarters. What she didn’t expect was for him to be sitting at her desk. What she didn’t want him doing, he had been doing.

Cullen had found the leather book.

And he had been looking it over for a good time now, all he was doing was  _waiting_.

“When were you going to tell me?” His jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as he paced back and forth in front of her.

Cullen held the book up, shoving it nearly in her face. “ _When_  were you going to tell me about this?” The sentence harsher than before.

“I don’t –“

“No!” He barked, chucking the book with a hard thud on the desk, causing Amelia to flinch.

“You hid your Lyrium withdrawals from me before, and look what happened.” He threw his arms in the air, had he been near a wall surly he would have slammed his fists against it numerous times. “Damn it, Amelia, why? Why did you not think to come to me? To trust me?”

“Because you have enough on your plate as it is being Commander. What good would it do to just pile onto that?” Her voice was quiet, made no movements. Amelia was trying to recede into herself, like it was going to work.

He was back by her before she even blinked, hands coming down on her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Cullen was rough, he knew it and didn’t care. One of the only times he was ever so to her; to anyone. His tolerance slowly creeping out the open balcony windows. Her silence only furthering his hostility.

 “Do you not understand how serious this is Inquisitor?”

Amelia made no move to look at him, head low and pointed to the ground. Her title. She hadn’t wished to hear it said such a way.

 There was no excuse for this. She knew she was walking on thin ice, dancing around, making sure he didn’t know. But that was moot. He probably knew the whole time. There absolutely nothing she could say or do to make the situation better, all she wanted, all she wished; was to run away. Run like she thought she’d been doing.

_Well look now, Amelia. Look where running has gotten you._

“Cullen please I – I didn’t want to worry you –“

“Didn’t want to worry? Didn’t want to worry?” He cut threw her words. His voice was hoarse, tired while hers sounded like the venom dripping from her lips and draining his energy. “You can’t be serious, Inquisitor!” He turned, throwing his hand in the air. Could not believe she  _actually_  said what she had said.

Cullen leaned against the desk with all his weight, staring at the book his wife had kept secret. Did she even remember she was his wife? Did she remember where they were? How could he even trust her? “How long?”

She didn’t answer; didn’t even move from the spot.

“I asked; How long?” He was biting the inside of his cheek, punishment so he wouldn’t grind his teeth anymore then he had been doing.  

“I’m sure the book can answer that for you.” Snarky.  _Nice going Amelia_.  _Snarky is exactly the tone you want to go for right now_.

“Amelia, please. Just… Just answer me please.” There was desperation in his voice, shoulders slouched as he made no inkling to turn. He just kept staring at the book.

She took a breath, it was time to stop hiding it. “About a year. It was fine up until a month ago, Varric called up a special healer to see if he could slow the effect.”

There was a single, strangled sob. He sounded… defeated. A battle he had fought crumbling at his feet. The one person he swore to protect was fighting a battle that not only could he not fight, he couldn’t help her. There was  _nothing_  he could do.

He pushed himself off the desk, making his way towards the door. Amelia lifted her arm, she was attempting to stop him, but if there was one thing that brushed off her onto him; it was her stubborn nature.

“Cullen?” As he stood next to her, shadows dancing on his sunken features. She’d never felt so… small around him before; so  _powerless_.

“I… I need to be alone for a bit, take this in. Think this over. I’m sorry, Inquisitor.”

She wanted to protest. Why didn’t she protest? She just let him go, let him walk down those stairs and made no move to follow, to go after him like her entire body was screaming at her to do. Yet she didn’t. Amelia just watched him shut the door gently. Eventually her eyes moved over to the book, the worn, now stained with distrust, book. She let out a shaky sigh. Legs felt like iron, whole body in fact. It hurt to move, hurt to breath.

Once the book was in reach and her back was against the bookcase, she threw it. Threw it to the opposite wall and sunk to her knees. She curled up, head hidden behind her arms as Amelia just sat there. It was silent, the Inquisitor crying was rare; extremely so. She’d only cried in front of Cullen twice.

As her shoulders quaked she cursed the Maker. Cursed the Chantry for this, cursed the damn dwarves for trading the Lyrium with the damn Chantry. Amelia just slouched, letting the sounds carry threw the room.

For the first time since she fell out of the fade back at the Temple; she was alone.

She deserved it after all. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen woke up in a cold sweat, body shaking and mouth dry.

He got up slowly, stopping just by the small water basin. Cullen splashed some water on his face, washing away to sleep that he had managed to gain during the night. It was a few days since he’d seen the Inquisitor after their fight. In fact it’s been a few days since anyone had seen her; locked up in her room avoiding the problem.

The person he looked at in the mirror was someone Cullen never expected to see; himself before Amelia. Unruly curls, the stubble on his face growing just a tad out of check, and sunken eyes. He looked exhausted.

But he had work that must be done. Troops needed training and today the War council was to meet early in the day.

The meeting went by quickly. Cullen discussed his concerns should Skyhold be the center of the final confrontation, requesting the outer walls in some way be more fortified. While Josephine mentioned something pertaining an interlude the Inquisitor was to join; but without the Herald at the meeting she assumed to hold it off. Leliana cut through their normal meeting chatter to offer one of her ravens to check up on the Inquisitor.

“Are you sure, Commander? It would be no issue.” The bard had been surprised by Cullens answer. Would this be any other time he would have not only request the bird; but request someone actually pick the lock and check themselves.

But he had refused. Told her no. He was angry, furious. Allowing a personal grudge to jeopardize the integrity of the Inquisition was not his normal way of things; but this was different.

The doors suddenly swung open, the gust of air nearly causing the pieces to fly off the map.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Amelia said under breath. Truth be told she forgot she was Inquisitor and forgot she had to go to meetings in the last day.

“Inquisitor, we are so grateful you could join us.” Honeyed words from the man who was her husband.

Amelia spread her fingers across the map, tracing each line. Adding it to a fading memory.

Leliana cleared her throat. “Inquisitor, we have a few things to discuss –“

“About what?” Amelia interrupted.

“I think you know.” Cullen said harshly, mirror her as he leaned on the map.

“Then yes. It’s true. Are you happy?” Amelia pushed herself up, brows creased as arms folded across her chest. “I don’t remember anything, at all. Nadda. Zip. Nope sorry don’t remember a god damn thing.”

“Damn it Inquisitor!” Cullen slammed his fist on the table, pushing himself up as well. “This is not a joke. What if Corypheus attacked? Would you even be ready for it?”

“I know how to use my hand damn it!”

Josephine and Leliana looked at the other, leaning back to look behind the Commander. Both wondering if they should even be here at this point.  

It was then a flash of green split across the sky. Harsh, nearly blinding Amelia before she raised her arm to shield her eyes.

“It seems, he does not wish to wait.” Morrigan had entered the room during their yelling match. She always seemed so calm even now.

Amelia took a breath. “Then I guess I won’t either. Get everyone ready, I want to end this once and for all.” She was going to do, Amelia truly wanted this to end once and for all.

As she stormed out the room, made her way to her Quarters quickly. Needed her armor and her weapons. Needed other things.

And she needed the book.

Before she sat down at her desk she looked up to make sure no one had followed or entered behind her. With a dip of the pen she wrote, but it wasn’t about what she couldn’t remember; it was about what she wanted  _Cullen_  to remember.

_“I love you Cullen, you know that. Even now as we fight, and we both know I may not return from this, so you must know. I may forget my name, my job, even what we were fighting for all this time; but I never forgot you. I never forgot how much you meant to me, even if you were a bit of an ass at the end. But please, even after what I must do, be happy. Maker knows how hard happiness is hard to come by and you deserve it more than anyone. I love you, Cullen Rutherford.”_

Amelia looked up, looked out her window to the breach. Her heart and mind for one of the only few times both agreeing to what she had planned. But first, she need to kick a Darkspawn’s ass. 


	4. Chapter 4

She just stared up at the sky, there was a scar where the Breach had been. She was peaceful looking, the soft leather of her armor coat and light blue scarf flowing in the wind. The light breeze played with her hair, the red locks brushing over her face as the sun rose. Like out of a silly heroic tale; that was what it was right? Day saved and all that?

She didn’t hear Varric walk up behind her, didn’t noticed him standing beside her as the torn leather of her armor moved with the wind.

“Bumble, are you not coming?”

The sound of Varrics voice caught her attention. Coming? Where was she going? Because she had made up her mind.

“Coming where?” She asked, still looking over at the mountains. Wondering how long it would take to reach Orlais or Ferelden on foot.

“Back to the group. Seeker is waiting for you.”

“I’m not going back, Varric. I need to leave.”

She took the cerulean blue scarf off slowly. It was one of the first things Cullen gave to her, a gift he said he found in Val Royeaux and despite how much he disliked her at first; he thought she would like it.

Cullen… Cullen was the man’s name right?

“Just like that? What about your life?”

“What life? I can barely remember I’m married let alone a life that seems so distant to me.”

“Varric, I need you to do something for me.” Varric was already not liking where this was going. “I need you to tell everyone I died. That I gave my life to close the breach, and that you never found my body.”

 The dwarf only stood silent. Neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“I need you to  _make_  them believe I’m gone. That they would never, ever come looking for me.”

“And what about Curly?” Varric finally interrupted. It was more of a statement then an actual question. But deep down he knew it would come to this. Anders hadn’t been able to come up with any sort of cure, and it had progressed.

Amelia turned to finally face him, her brows furrowed. “Curly? Who’s Curly?”

Varric shook his head, muttering to forget it as he took the scarf from her. This was wrong, there had to be another way. But the look in his friends’ eyes told him everything. Even if she couldn’t place the name there was still a fire in her eyes when he said it. But also an emptiness, a sadness he’d never seen before.

“Do you think they will believe that you’re gone? You tend to not die.” The small crack at humor brought her back for just a moment, anger in her eyes mixed with pity.

“I think it would be better for everyone to believe I just died, then for them to all find out I just became an empty husk devoid of the ability to remember that I loved someone.” Her voice caught in her throat, there was more she wanted-  _needed_  to say. And she spoke the truth: She couldn’t remember what the words meant, who to say them too. All she knew was they meant something to someone.

There was a bubble. A silent bubble of words that neither wished to speak. The air shifted, it wasn’t a cold wind but there was something neither could place.

“You won’t do anything crazy, right Bumble?”

Amelia smiled at the name, saying aloft how that was the perfect name for her. 

She tilted her head, a gentle smile, shoulder slightly shook with laughter. Shaking her head in reassurance. She looked happy, but there was sadness in her eyes. Resolution too. As they looked at one another he could tell she had been planning this from the start, and waited for him to find her; so she could tell someone. Varric could swore he would start hearing some random piano play in the distance.

“Inquisitor are you alright?!” Cassandra called.

Amelia lifted her head slowly in the direction before backing away from her friend. “Go Varric, go tell them your tragic story. Tell them Bumble landed on her last flower.” For her to say such a sentence with humor was almost eerily welcoming.

Both turned to the direction of Cassandra, who had been calling for the Inquisitor for a good time now. Amelia looked back at Varric and began backing up.

“What about your weapons? Would it not make sense to have those to show everyone?” When Amelia laughed, a hearty laugh from deep in her chest. A genuine smile spreading across her face.

“Got to have something to beat bears up with. Without that one person, the one you call Seeker I think, I would have nothing.”

Varric joined in on her laugh before turning on his heel and making way towards the group. Amelia could hear the chatter, the one from before screaming that he was wrong, that the Inquisitor was just taking her time. 

In the distance from where she stood, she could see a small army being led by a man in red with the most ridiculous fur mantle around his neck. She shook her head, not able to place the look, and figured it was high time to leave.

 

* * *

 

The air in the Gull and Lantern was stuffy, and not just because it was crowed at the end of a day. Amelia took a sip of her ale, this was supposed to be Ferelden ale why did it taste like a dead rat? She shook her head, the taste of the ale bitter and a wise person would stop drinking it.

But she was not wise. A wise person would not be spending the night in a tavern getting drunk off their ass.

She lifted her mug and cheered to bad choices, slurring her words a bit.

The door opening was silenced behind the chatter of the patrons, and not to mention a familiar sound. Amelia didn’t realize the person had walked in, though with the way everyone suddenly stopped she should have, like he commanded everyone’s sudden attention.

He walked over, hovering over the stood near the counter. “May I?” He asked, loud enough for her ears only.

“I don’t own the stool, do with it as you wish.” She replied before taking another sip, and coughing.

As the man sat, Amelia couldn’t help but take a quick peak from the corner of her eyes. He was tall, maybe 6 feet or so. Golden hair shaped to a soft curve in the front. Armor, looked old. Not rusted but used, like her armor after not polishing it for a few days. The red cloth with gold embodied in it contrasted nicely with the fair skin and blond hair.

But that fur lining the shape of his neck. Was bear fur really necessary?

He cleared his throat, asking the bartender for a simple ale. Amelia shook her head subtly for she knew what was to come.

“So,” The mystery man started, “Do you come here often?” He finally turned his head, she could see the scar that cut across his lip; opposite side from her own.

“A pick up line? Sir I’m flattered.” She took another sip of her ale, finish it off and thanking the Maker it was over.

His chuckle was something she wanted to hear over and over, not knowing why. Like it sounded familiar but she could not place it. _And his smile_. It made her smile from just looking at it. Made her think of home.

“I wish it was, but I’m not very good at that type of thing.” He admitted, turning his body to give her his undivided attention.

It was only now that Amelia noticed he looked nervous talking to her, stuttering, his breath slightly picking up.  In fact his hand was shaking against the mug in his hand, and his eyes were locked onto her hand; her left hand. Was he looking for something there? Did he notice the strange green scar?

_Way to make me feel self-conscious_

Amelia shuffled in her seat, rubbing a finger over the scar the cut her otherwise perfect lips: a nervous habit she formed not long after she got it. And when she looked at him she now felt oddly guilty. He gave her a look, like he had seen a spirit from the fade.

“Sorry. It’s ah, a nervous tick.” Why did she feel like she had to apologies?

“No, no!” He sputtered, his hand without thinking about it gently gripped hers away from her lips. His face flushed, pulling back before she could say anything and he was getting up.

“Wait!” Amelia called, grabbing his arm just before he managed to walk through the door. “My name’s Amelia.” She said it so quietly, so shy.  _What is wrong with you, you are not like this._

His face soften, giving her a sheepish smile before Amelia let her hand drop to her side.

“Cullen. You can call me Cullen.”

“Alright Cullen.” The name felt so right on her tongue, like a sweet apple or honey. “How about we head to this little tavern just outside of Redcliff, they have a much better ale.”

“I would… Like that.”


End file.
